


In Spirit and Truth

by engonasin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Daddy Issues, Love Bites, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex for Favors, Sugar Daddy, not a daddy kink fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engonasin/pseuds/engonasin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is the heir to a small fortune who writes suspicious novels for a living. Erwin is trying to earn money for college and seeks his financial help. They bang. Things get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebackstabber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebackstabber/gifts).



> formerly titled Love Like Ours is Never Fixed, which fit the original idea I had for this story but not the result pffft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin has a proposition

After eight years of being a published novelist, Levi was accustomed to the occasional unfamiliar name cropping up in the personal email he used exclusively to contact his family. He was about to delete it, figuring it to be from another nosier than usual fan, when the subject line caught his eye:

_I took piano lessons from your mother_

It wasn’t common knowledge that his mother taught piano lessons on the side, even for the few fans of his who were determined to learn every tiny detail about his personal life down to what he ate for breakfast and what his favorite brand of dish detergent was. He paused for a moment before opening the email up.

_Sorry for messaging you here. Your mother said you don’t answer phone calls unless they’re from her and that I was more likely to get your attention like this than if I contacted you on your other email. I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch this Saturday. – Erwin Smith_

Two minutes later Levi was on the phone with his mother, too irritated to keep himself from snapping, “What possessed you to give my email out to someone I don’t know?”

“Oh, but you do know him!” she said. In the background Levi could hear the sound of her dogs barking at each other. She fussed at them before continuing, “He was that little blond boy from Georgia I taught on Wednesday afternoons.”

Levi tilted his chair back on two legs and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, exhaling deeply through his nose. “I have no idea who you’re talking about,” he managed to say in a more civilized tone.

“You just don’t remember,” she said with a tsk. “I started teaching him when you were in college, so you probably only ever saw him at recitals. He stopped taking from me about five years ago, but he still sends me a Christmas card every year. Isn’t that sweet? None of my other old students ever stay in contact . . .”

“Mother,” he said, sensing an impending anecdote, “I have a deadline to meet. I can’t waste time meeting up with some kid I don’t know.”

“He called me specifically to get in touch with you. It wouldn’t hurt for you to get out of your apartment every now and then,” she said airily, hanging up before he could reply. Levi set his phone on the desk and glared at his computer screen as he tried to remember which one of his mother’s students had been named Erwin Smith. It wasn’t easy—he’d stopped going to the recitals over seven years ago, when his workload increased.

Later that afternoon, as he fed Titania, his cat, he remembered. Erwin had been a pasty, scrawny nerd whose parents made him wear festive sweaters for the Christmas and Easter recitals. To Levi he’d always looked a little ridiculous, especially because he played with an eerily blank face that contrasted with the music. Levi didn’t recall ever exchanging a word with him. 

He couldn’t think of any reason why the pipsqueak would message him now, nor could he think of any reason why he sent a short, affirmative reply that was soon followed by a second email. Erwin suggested they meet at some fast food joint close to the local college’s dorms.

When Levi pulled up in front of the restaurant on Saturday he felt immediately out of place. He spent most of his time holed up in his apartment, writing and sometimes watching reruns of old TV shows with Titania; it felt like years since he’d last stepped foot inside a McDonald’s. He wandered up to the register and looked over the menu while he waited for a cashier to show up. His phone buzzed in his pocket; he was in the middle of texting Petra, his editor, when someone finally showed up.

“I’d like a medium coffee,” he said, not taking his eyes off his phone.

“Cream and sugar?” a voice heavy with a Southern accent replied. He glanced up, startled by what he saw.

“Holy _shit_.”

The cashier didn’t even blink. “That’ll be one seventy-three.”

“ _You’re_ Erwin?”

In response, Erwin pointed at his name tag with his left hand. Levi’s gaze shifted to his empty right sleeve before going back to his face, unsure if it was rude to stare. Erwin didn’t seem bothered by it. “My shift is almost over. We can catch up then.”

Levi sat in a booth by the window and waited for his coffee to cool down. True to his word, Erwin joined him not ten minutes later, sitting across from him and letting his broad shoulders go slack. Once Levi got done ogling just how tall and muscular and handsome he was now, he could see that Erwin looked exhausted. Miserable, almost.

“So, you’re a writer,” Erwin said when the silence became unbearably awkward. The change in his voice—in _everything_ —was impossible for Levi to wrap his head around; puberty had been very kind to him. His skin was pulled tight over his bones, as if his skeleton was threatening to outgrow it, and was noticeably tan, which made Levi think he must stay outdoors a lot.

“. . . Yeah,” Levi said belatedly.

“What kind of books do you write?”

“Cannibalism how-to manuals,” Levi said, if only to see what his reaction would be. Erwin’s thick eyebrows raised just a fraction. Other than that he seemed unfazed. “Novels. I’d rather not say what genre. What are you going to college for?”

“I’m a senior in high school,” Erwin corrected him, sounding a little amused, as if used to people making that mistake. Levi’s hands involuntarily tightened around the cup. “But that’s along what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He stood up then and headed for the door, not even looking to see if Levi was following. Levi scowled and resisted the urge to let his eyes linger on how snugly Erwin’s pants hugged his ass before sliding out of the booth. Erwin was standing by his car when he stepped outside. It wasn’t hard to figure out which one would be Levi’s; he came from a well-to-do family as it was and his books sold well enough that he had enough money to comfortably buy an expensive ass car.

“You’re pushy,” Levi commented. Erwin went around to the passenger side and just cocked his head when the door remained locked. “What makes you think I want to cart you around at my inconvenience?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to lunch,” Erwin said. “And I don’t take you as the sort who likes fast food. I’m tired of it myself.”

His assumption irritated Levi, but he _was_ hungry, and he _was_ a little too uppity to order anything more from a McDonald’s than a coffee he wasn’t actually going to drink. Erwin made an off-hand remark about some seafood restaurant nearby, which irritated Levi even more, but it wasn’t like he had any idea where to go otherwise. 

As he navigated through traffic he wondered what he was supposed to say. Erwin was content to sit in the passenger seat in absolute silence. He didn’t even turn the radio on and look for whatever kind of trash passed as music among teenagers these days. Levi pulled up to a red light and was considering turning the radio on himself when Erwin said, “I need money.”

Levi’s hand froze on the tuner for just a second before he relaxed and sat back. He glanced sidelong at Erwin, who was looking out the window like he’d just commented on the weather. His leg was jittering a bit, reminding Levi of how his tense and agitated his cat got when it was storming. “And?”

He could see Erwin’s reflection in the glass, could see the way his lips twitched before he said, “And I was hopin’ you’d provide me with some.”

Levi snorted. The light turned green. “You had the balls to drag me away from my work just to tell me that? I might be impressed if I weren’t so pissed.”

Erwin didn’t say anything. He turned his head to look out the windshield, very pointedly keeping his eyes on anything but Levi. His fidgeting got worse.

“Sorry, but I’m not feeling overly generous right now,” Levi said. “I’ll buy you lunch if you want but that’s it.”

“I don’t expect it for free.” It sounded almost like a threat.

“Yeah? And what would you do to repay me?” he said, swerving into the restaurant’s parking lot and gliding into a spot. Erwin looked at him then, his light blue eyes piercing. The intensity of his gaze made Levi feel small and pinned, like some kind of insect.

“Whatever you like,” Erwin said.

-

Lunch was awkward, not in the least because their waiter was a friend of Erwin’s, some gangly fellow with a mustache who was even taller than he was. He had to crane his neck down to look at Levi, at which point he snorted. Levi hadn’t bothered to dress up too much for the occasion, just threw on a sweater vest, dark jeans, and some nice shoes that morning. Too late he realized he must look like one of those hipster types who liked to converge en masse at his favorite coffee shop on the weekends.

“Mike,” Erwin said by way of greeting.

“Hello, who’s this?” Mike asked as he led them to their table. “I didn’t know you had such a classy friend, Erwin.”

“We’re not friends,” Levi said flatly. Mike chuckled and gave them their menus.

“Not yet,” Erwin amended mildly, feigning ignorance of the dirty glower Levi gave him.

They ate in silence. When Mike came around with their bill Levi paid for all of it. He could have sworn he heard Mike take a deep sniff before walking away, chuckling under his breath about something.

“So you know that weirdo?” Levi asked as they walked back to his car.

“We go to the same church.”

Something in Erwin’s tone turned sharp, though his face remained as even as ever. So he didn’t like to talk about church. The revelation jogged Levi’s memory. “Your father’s a preacher,” he said before he could stop himself. “That’s why he made you wear those sweaters with the Nativity scene on them for the Christmas recitals.”

Erwin got in first, and made good and sure to wait until Levi walked around the car and got in himself before saying, “I’m surprised you can remember that far back.”

“I’m not _that_ old, smart ass. I’ll be thirty-three in two weeks.”

The leg jittering started up again. Levi tolerated it for the whole drive back to his apartment, at which point he threw the car in park and reached over, gripping Erwin’s knee so hard his knuckles turned white. “For the love of God, will you—” He realized then that he was an almost-thirty-three-year-old man groping the leg of a high school senior and that said high school senior didn’t seem to mind one bit. He snatched his hand away. “Get out.”

Erwin did as he was told and proceeded to follow Levi through the front door of the apartment building and over to the elevator. Levi spent too long debating whether he should chase him off or not; when the doors slid aside Erwin was the first one in. He then had the gall to ask Levi what number he should press.

It was impossible not to be aware of how nervous Erwin made him when they were confined in such a small space together. He wedged himself into the corner farthest from him and tried desperately to remember just how old he would be now, stiffening when the doors opened and Erwin stepped out, once again just assuming Levi would follow. He didn’t really have a choice at this point.

“Look, I can give you bus fare or something if you need to get home,” he said as he unlocked his door. “And . . . how much money were you thinking of bo—asking for?” He supposed his stinginess was unwarranted, and it must take a lot to pluck up the courage to ask for charity when it was needed.

“Enough to go to college,” Erwin said without hesitation. “Well, enough to pay for the activity fees and supplies for four years. And to possibly study abroad one summer.”

His balls had to be the size of cantaloupes. Levi opened his door, halfway expecting Erwin to barge in past him. He didn’t. “Fuck you.”

Erwin’s smile didn’t quite reach his large blue eyes. “Well, let me pay you back for lunch then.”

“It’s not that big a deal. You don’t have to make it all weird.” 

“I just intend to keep my word.” Erwin sounded far too earnest for his own good.

Titania started meowing at the crack in the door, sensing that her owner had come home. Levi stuck the toe of his shoe through to appease her. “And how exactly are you planning on paying me back?”

“However you want me to.”

Well, that was obnoxiously vague, Levi thought. He had no way of knowing what was or wasn’t acceptable, whether Erwin would be averse to changing the litter box or being used as an errand boy, whether or not he was okay with Levi grabbing hold of his forearm and using it to hoist himself up so he could press a poorly aimed kiss to his jaw.

“You’re too fucking tall,” he muttered, feeling a burst of alarm when Erwin lifted him up, kissing him properly on the lips. His legs wrapped around Erwin’s waist to take the crushing pressure off his upper torso. He grabbed a fistful of Erwin’s hair and steered him inside the apartment before one of the neighbors could see them. Erwin pressed him against the wall and fuck if it wasn’t kind of hot, being manhandled by someone twice his size and half his age.

“Wait,” he said, squirming, “wait, fuck, how old are you?”

“I turned eighteen in October.”

 _Oh, thank God_. “What makes you think I’m interested in a punk like you?”

“You kissed me first,” Erwin reminded him, sounding a little too smug for Levi’s liking. Levi held on for dear life as he was carried to the bedroom. 

-

Levi wasn’t very sociable, but he did like sex. On nights when he was stressed more than usual from work he’d go drinking and pick up some guy to relieve his tension with. He never brought them to his apartment, wasn’t keen about having his personal life bleed into his workspace (or about having foreign stains on his sheets), but Petra insisted that he keep the “necessary items” on hand just in case. He’d have to remember to send her a thank-you text later.

He was getting ahead of himself, he realized right as Erwin dropped him on the bed and kneeled over him. Levi pushed him over and sat on his stomach, refusing to budge until Erwin looked him in the eye.

“I think I can be persuaded to lend you some money,” he said, feeling a frightening surge of delight at the hungry look that appeared in Erwin’s eyes. He wet his lips. “But I’m not committing to anything just yet. It depends on how good you are.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“What are you good at?”

“Bluffin’,” Erwin replied. Levi almost toppled over when his leg started shaking again. He was quiet for a bit, looking as if he didn’t want to say whatever was on his mind. “Ain’t ever done this before.”

His confession hung in the air for a long, silent minute. Levi stared down at him, his eyes raking from Erwin’s face down to the patch of his muscled stomach that showed between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans. Levi touched him, a little startled by how warm his skin was, then grabbed hold of his junk for confirmation. Erwin’s balls were indeed big.

“I’m not giving you points for enthusiasm,” Levi said, straightening up and settling his arms on Erwin’s shoulders. He took hold of his hair and jerked his head back, kissing his throat. Erwin’s hand clamped down around on his thigh, his fingers so long they could almost encircle it. “If you want me to be your—your personal ATM machine—”

“Sugar daddy?” Erwin supplied.

“—then you’d better be fucking _fantastic_.”

To his credit, Erwin had little problem letting Levi peel his shirt off. It was when it came time for him to do the same to Levi that he got weird. Levi could tell he was too proud and a little stubborn to admit it, even to himself, but he was shy. He crossed his arm over his bare chest and just stared at Levi, jaw stiff and lips pursed.

“I take it you don’t watch porn,” Levi commented as he pulled his sweater off, letting it drop to the floor. Erwin’s eyes remained fixated on his face, even when Levi sat up on his knees and began pulling off his jeans. He’d chosen the worst day to wear his tightest pair.

“Dad took my bedroom door off the hinges when I was given a laptop for my thirteenth birthday. Said he wanted to minimize any kind of temptation.” His gaze flickered down to Levi’s briefs when Levi tossed his jeans aside. Erwin settled his hand at his waist almost hesitantly. “I think he just made it worse.”

“So did you contact me because I’m the richest guy you know or because I’m the best-looking?”

“Both. Your mama assured me you were cute as a button.”

“I’m going to bite your dick off,” Levi informed him before unzipping his pants. Erwin wore green plaid boxers that did little to hide the shape of his half-erect dick. Levi palmed it through the fabric and enjoyed the way he jumped. His nonchalant façade was crumbling, giving way to a raw urgency that overtook his discomfort. His hand moved to the side of Levi’s head of its own accord, flinching when Levi chomped down on his pinkie. “What, did you seriously think I’m going to give you head? You really think that’s going fit in my mouth?”

“Where else am I gonna put it?” Erwin’s eyes widened as he realized the naiveté of what he'd just said. “I mean—I _know_ where else—it’s just—d’you—?”

“Yeah,” Levi cut him off, slipping his hand into Erwin’s boxers and taking hold of his cock, “I do. Sit up.”

Erwin complied, keeping his head lowered so he could watch Levi slowly pump him, turning his small hand over it and smearing pre-come down its length. His breathing grew more and more stuttered against Levi’s collarbone.

“You’ve never had any kind of sex?” Levi murmured. “No one else has seen this big fat cock of yours?” He didn’t really enjoy the thought of being Erwin’s first exposure to sex; he’d been told plenty of times that he could be more than a little mean in bed, but then, most guys sought him out because of that.

“My friend Nile,” Erwin gasped. “Mike’s stepbrother.”

“Gross. But I thought you said you’d never done anything like this?”

“It was—spontaneous. Short. Not like this.” Erwin was practically gnawing at his shoulder in an attempt to keep quiet. “Don’t like to think about it.”

“Why not? Tell me.” Levi took his hand away and trailed it up Erwin’s abdomen. Erwin mumbled something that sounded more or less like “at church camp.” Levi took his lower lip between his teeth when he kissed him. Erwin let his tongue in willingly and reacted, slow and experimental. His grip was vice-tight, almost painful, at Levi’s hip. He moved his own impatiently, brushing his cock alongside Levi’s. Levi bit him.

“I’m clean,” he said when he leaned back to admire his handiwork. Erwin’s lips were wet and swollen, and there was a faint red bite mark at the corner of his mouth. His short blond hair was matted with sweat, sticking to the hard jut of his cheekbones. “But I have some condoms if you’re more comfortable with that.” Well now that he thought about it, he doubted he had any big enough. Erwin shook his head anyway. “Then get the lube out. You have one chance to impress me,” he looked him right in the eye, “ _boy_.”

“Yessir,” Erwin said like the obedient little Southerner he was. Levi recalled that he was from a small town in Georgia, having been enrolled in his mother’s piano lessons as a way to get acquainted with the city all those years ago. His drawl was still there, so deep-rooted that Levi doubted it would ever go entirely away. He noticed it got heavier whenever Erwin was nervous.

Erwin’s fingers were cool and slick when he finally put his palm on Levi’s ass, his touch light and cautious. He seemed incapable of taking the final step of breaching someone else’s asshole, so Levi reached behind him and took hold of his wrist.

“I told you,” he said, “I’m _clean_. Just stick it in there.”

Erwin pressed one finger in slower than Levi liked, but it was probably for the best; he hissed in spite of himself, arching his back at the thickness. Erwin’s fingers were too long and square and ungraceful, not meant to be confined on small piano keys or up someone’s ass. It still felt good. It took some harsh encouraging but Levi managed to persuade him to push a second finger inside.

“Tell me about church camp,” Levi ordered quietly, lowering himself onto Erwin’s fingers. “I never went. What’s it like?”

“Depends on what kind of person you are. I liked some aspects of it.” Erwin nudged the tip of a third finger in, stopping when Levi gripped his shoulders and exhaled sharply. “Others not so much.” 

Levi could feel his large cock slipping against his own every time he moved. He held them as best as he could and stroked them together, wringing a moan.

“And what would your daddy think about you fucking around with another boy at church camp? Or anywhere?”

“He’d flay me,” Erwin replied, blinking when Levi let go of their cocks and lifted himself off of his fingers. “Right after he got done flayin’ the other guy.”

Levi held his cock and set the head in place. He eased himself down, going slow until he felt the head go in. Erwin made a noise like he was being strangled. It was kind of cute.

Levi sank down until about an inch of it was in before saying, “Impress me.” It wasn’t in his nature to be bossy, but it felt good to order his partners around in bed. It felt even better when his partners turned out to be the type who didn’t like being told what to do, but he supposed Erwin’s sincere compliance was a nice change. He really needed the money, Levi realized, biting his lip when Erwin thrust up into with one strong, sudden roll of his hips. “Fuck, do that agai— _fuck_!”

On the third or fourth thrust Erwin bit him, really _bit_ him, on the side of his throat, so hard that Levi’s eyes watered a bit and he knew it was going to bruise. He felt Erwin’s cock twitch inside him, followed by the unmistakable wetness of come. He seated himself down on Erwin’s cock again anyway, his displeasure dampened by the fact that it was still hard.

“All that talk and this is the best you can do? I’d say your mouth is bigger than your dick, and that’s saying something, isn’t it?” Levi pushed Erwin flat on his back and trailed his fingertips down Erwin’s pelvic bones before urging them to flip. He hooked his legs over Erwin’s shoulder, relishing the frenzied way Erwin began to pound into him. His muscles weren’t just for show; Levi felt his teeth chatter with every strong thrust. Levi stroked himself, keeping up a stream of insults that grew stuttered with gasps and moans as he neared orgasm.

“Shit,” he spat out, coming so intensely that his muscles began to spasm of their own accord, continuing to do so even when he lay back on the mattress, tired and spent. He pulled Erwin’s hand down to the crook of his neck and tensed when Erwin came a second time, his sweat hot and sticky against Levi’s skin.

He kind of regretted not looking for a big enough condom now that he could think more clearly about how much come was inside him, but whatever. It was getting hard to breathe. He prodded Erwin in the stomach until he pulled out and moved onto his side.

“Hmm,” he said, pretending like he hadn’t enjoyed himself immensely, “not bad for a first attempt.”

Erwin chuckled faintly. His voice sounded hoarse. “Will there be a second time?”

Levi reached out a hand and felt around in his nightstand drawer for the pen and notepad he kept there for when he wanted to jot down ideas in the morning. He wrote down his cell phone number and a rough approximation of his schedule for the next month, then stuck the piece of paper under Erwin’s nose. “I don’t care as long as you work hard and keep your mouth shut.” 

Sure, Erwin was of age, but he didn’t want the news that he was sleeping with someone in high school to get around, not to the press and especially not his mother. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Erwin’s parents found out. “You can use my shower if you want, then go. I need to get back to work.”

“Thank you,” Erwin said, rousing himself up and staggering across the room to the bathroom. His broad back was covered in scratches and there were a few nice bruises blooming on his shoulders. Levi rounded up his cell phone once he was gone and texted Petra a short thank you that she responded to with a string of question marks.

That night he sat on the couch with Titania curled in his lap and flipped through the channels. He got a few calls from some of his friends asking if he wanted to go drinking. He turned his phone off after the fourth one, not just because he was really sore after rolling around with a teenager whose refractory period was the size of a dingleberry, but because he felt . . . what? Guilty? Like it would be cheating?

Erwin messaged him from Sunday school the next day: _good morning_. Levi stared at it for what felt like ages, wondering what he could possibly mean by it. He didn’t respond to it, just turned on his laptop and tried to forget about the mess he’d gotten himself in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin has a tragic yaoi backstory

There were many things Erwin liked about going to church as a child. Dressing up was not one of them. He didn’t like being stuck in miniature versions of his father’s best button-down shirts and he didn’t like having his hair combed with some kind of product that always ran when the weather was the slightest bit humid. He also thought the little bow ties were a bit much, mostly because his teachers assured him they made him look grown up and mature.

One thing he did like was that every so often (but not too often) his parents would take him out to eat after the service. The Smiths were quiet, almost stoic, people, his father a preacher and his mother a columnist for the local newspaper. There were times he felt almost as if they saw him more as an accessory than a child and there were times he felt as if they forgot he existed altogether. But then these occasional Sunday lunches would happen and for an hour or so he was the most important thing in their lives.

They still didn’t value his opinion about the move.

He knew better than to throw a tantrum or cry when they sat him down in the living room less than a week before his eleventh birthday to break the news. His legs were just long enough for his feet to brush the floor when he sat on the couch, silent while they explained the reason for the move and where they would be going.

“. . . wonderful city. You’ll make new friends in no time,” his father was saying. “Are you listenin', son?”

“Yes, sir.” He picked at the cushions, avoiding their eyes. “When’re we goin’?”

They ended up moving the first day of winter vacation. He saw snow for the first time that Christmas, too intimidated of it to do anything more than watch it fall from his new bedroom window. When school began his parents sent him off to Maria Christian Academy on a bus, a tribulation he’d never had to endure until then. He stood at the stop with a small handful of other kids from his neighborhood and was the last one to get on.

There were name stickers above every window that indicated some kind of seating order. A quick glance told him there wasn’t one for him yet. It appeared that everyone was seated by age, youngest to oldest, from the front to the back, which left him somewhere around the sixth or seventh row. No sooner had he taken his first step than the bus lurched forward, sending him careening down the aisle. He might have flown all the way to the back window if he hadn’t collided with someone’s legs.

“Sorry,” he said, grabbing hold of them for support. They were sticking out from one side of the aisle, so long that they reached the seat on the other side. He saw with relief that the legs belonged to a sandy-haired boy who sat by himself. “Can I sit here?”

In response the boy withdrew his legs and leaned over so he could stick his face in Erwin’s hair. After taking a long, deep whiff he scooted aside wordlessly, so Erwin supposed he must have passed whatever he was being tested on.

“I’m Mike,” the boy said over the noise the other kids were making. “You?”

“Erwin.”

Mike regarded him for a moment, nostrils flared. His bangs were so long that they almost covered his eyes. “You don’t usually ride this bus.”

Erwin nodded. “I just moved here. What grade are you in?”

“Fifth.”

That surprised Erwin. Going by his legs Mike was even taller than Erwin, who had been the tallest fifth grader back home. Erwin would have guessed he was a middle schooler. “So’m I.”

As they talked they figured out that they were in different blocks of classes. Erwin was at a loss for words—Mike had been easy to click with, but the prospect of starting over from scratch was a little horrifying.

“We’ll have lunch and recess at the same time,” Mike said. It didn’t make Erwin feel any better. They had to go different ways when the bus reached the school, leaving Erwin to walk into a foreign environment on his own. It was distressing, but if he’d learned one thing from his parents it was how to sport a magnificent poker face.

Adjusting grew a little easier after the first few weeks. He didn’t reach out to any of his classmates—there wasn’t any need. Mike ended up being his only friend and he was content with that. In contrast it seemed to Erwin that anyone Mike exchanged even a nonverbal hello with became his friend.

His parents, on the other hand, were deeply concerned about his disinterest in socializing. He came home one Friday afternoon in March and was called into his father’s study for A Talk. His father’s new study was a tiny room on the first floor that had bookshelves on every wall. They were packed with multiple versions of the Bible and hundreds of books that involved Christianity in one way or another, from non-fiction memoirs to prayer guidebooks to a children’s fantasy series Erwin had never taken much interest in.

His father gestured for him to take a seat. Erwin clambered up into the hardback chair in front of the desk. It was an antique from a local store that smelled like dust and the peppermints his father was fond of.

“How was school?” his father asked. He was a broad, stern man with few wrinkles and gray hairs, which made him seem younger than he really was. The only things that belied his age were the thick veins and dark splotches that marred his hands. He steepled them under his chin, fixing Erwin in a cool gray stare that seemed to pierce straight through him.

“It was fine.”

His father looked dissatisfied, his heavyset brow furrowing. “Are you keepin' your grades up?”

“Yes, sir.”

His father nodded approvingly. “Made any new friends?”

Erwin didn’t want to shake his head. He didn’t want to tell his father that he’d been teased about the way he talked or for being a teacher’s pet simply because his grades were good, but he especially didn’t want to lie, so he shook his head. As if it could stem the disappointment that shadowed his father’s face, he was quick to add, “I’m good with Mike.”

“I’m glad that you’re friends with Mike, but wouldn’t you like a whole group of boys to play with?” His father sounded a little desperate at this point. “Enough to have over for a dive in or a camp out?”

“Can Mike come camp out this weekend?” he asked. His father stared at him before saying they would see, which meant no.

“I called you in here to tell you that your mother and I found someone to teach you how to play the piano.” His father looked back down at the papers on his desk, signifying that their discussion was coming to a close. “Your lessons will be on Wednesdays. I’ll be drivin' you to them.”

Erwin wasn’t too keen about being enrolled in piano lessons without being asked, but he knew that they couldn’t be cheap, so he said, “Thank you.”

-

The following Wednesday he was taken to a large white house in a wealthier neighborhood of the city. The lawn was extravagantly decorated with an array of well-kept shrubs and flowerbeds. Erwin caught a glimpse of a lake and a gazebo in the backyard as they drove down the twisting driveway. His father dropped him off at the front steps, telling him he was old enough to behave himself for an hour, and pulled away.

His teacher was a short, pale woman named Ms. Sarah who smiled easily and loved the piano almost as much as she loved her dogs, two stocky rat terriers that circled Erwin curiously when she opened the door.

“I adopted those two from a shelter when my son left for college,” she said as she led him through the living room, if it could be called that. There were so many fragile-looking decorations and glass ornaments stacked precariously everywhere that Erwin was hesitant to move. “Our house is so big that it felt so lonely without him here. My husband works all the time so for a while it was only me here. Oh, listen to me carry on. The piano’s down this way, dear.” She stuck her head out from the hallway she’d disappeared down. Erwin was still waylaid in the living room, unsure what to do now that the dogs had started pawing at his legs for attention. He wanted to pet them, had wanted for years to ask his parents if he could have a dog.

“They don’t bite,” Ms. Sarah said warmly. It was all the encouragement he needed.

His lessons consisted of learning music theory, playing beginner’s exercises, and petting the dogs while Ms. Sarah told him about the city. She’d been born here and gone to school here and grown up here and gotten married here and, she assured him with a thin smile, would in all likelihood die here. She said it was a wonderful city full of surprises, even if her son would vehemently disagree.

Since the spring recital was in April, everyone (including Erwin’s parents) assumed it would be in the spirit of Easter and therefore held at a church, despite the fact that Ms. Sarah wasn’t religious.

“It doesn’t really bother me. I just wish my students could play pop music if they wanted to,” she said, shrugging, when he asked her about it at their final practice before the recital. “But I guess it’s for the best. My son hates pop music.”

“Will he be there?” Erwin asked. Ms. Sarah spoke about her son every now and then, usually in the context of embarrassing baby stories. She mentioned once that he’d gone to college for creative writing, in a tone that suggested she thought he would be better off pursuing a more practical degree, but she sounded proud nonetheless.

“He will be if he wants me to help with his bills. He says he wants to be independent and pay them himself now, but he’d have a conniption if I told him how many there are.” She smiled and helped him gather up his work books. “Well, I’ll see you here tomorrow evening, dear. Six pm on the dot.”

The recital went about as well as a recital comprised of twenty piano novices could go. Erwin was secretly glad that almost everyone else was as horrible as he was. Ms. Sarah had assured him that everyone started off shakily and that diligent practice was the key to improvement, but still. He’d taken to the theoretical side of music better than he had to the actual act of playing.

As one of the other students bumbled his way through a simplified version of Come Thou Fount, Erwin glanced around the pews. Ms. Sarah sat by the piano so she could help turn pages if need be and all of the parents were packed in the first few rows. A haughty-looking young man sat alone in a pew near the back of the sanctuary, dressed in tattered jeans and a T shirt with the long sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair, black and shiny like ink, framed a pair of dark eyes that looked supremely uninterested in everything. Erwin might not have thought to glance back there if his father hadn’t muttered a derisive comment about the man to his mother.

“Absolutely no respect, comin' to church dressed like that. Who is he?”

“Ms. Sarah’s son,” Erwin said quietly. There was too strong a resemblance in the man’s pale, round face for him not to be related to her. “His name is Levi.”

His father shook his head. “I wonder how such a nice woman ended up with a son like that.”

Like what? From what Erwin had heard from Ms. Sarah, Levi sounded perfectly harmless, if a little desperate to be out of his parents’ clutches. It would be out of the question for him to approach Levi now that he was on his parents’ bad side for whatever reason, and upon a second, furtive inspection Erwin thought that there was a definite tinge of latent hostility in Levi’s eyes. So he put Levi out of his mind and played his recital piece when it was his turn to make a fool of himself, wishing for the umpteenth time that his parents would stop picking out his clothes for him.

Erwin sent Ms. Sarah cards every year for her birthday and Christmas, and after his accident two years later he’d sometimes send her one for no particular reason. He would have liked to visit her in person but he would need his parents’ permission for that, and once Erwin was in middle school he began to dislike the idea of asking his parents permission for anything. They acted funny about Ms. Sarah now, as if it were somehow _her_ fault that Erwin’s cousins had gotten him involved in a mud bogging event gone wrong the previous summer. Whenever he wrote out his cards for her now, holding the pen too tight in his left hand, his parents always felt the need to make a remark about her unfortunate familial circumstances. It infuriated him.

His parents simultaneously suffocated him and ignored him twice as much as they had before he’d lost his arm. They decided things for him and spoke about him as if he wasn’t there, and they dismissed many of his attempts to communicate with them as him being “distressed” and “hormonal.”

“I just want some freedom,” he said at the dinner table about a year after his accident. His mother looked up from her okra, her eyes flicking nervously from his face to his father’s. He knew that she was otherwise capable of reason and trust, but she was deferential, almost timid around his father. “I want to be able to spend time at my friend’s house. I want you to stop treatin’ me like a child.”

“We’ve never treated you like a child,” his father said, which was true. They’d always expected him to be mature and thoughtful, even when he was too young to be. “But I seem to recall that at the family reunion last year we trusted you to be responsible when your cousins asked you to hang out with them, and you know how that turned out.”

“It was a mistake,” Erwin said, struggling to keep his voice even, “and I’ve learned my lesson. I just—I just want to move on. Please.”

“Alright,” his father said, which sounded like the adult version of “whatever”: nonsensical, dismissive, and condescending. Erwin would have stood up and left the table if he hadn’t known that would be immature, so he sat there in brooding silence for the rest of dinner.

His mother came up to his room later that evening. Everyone said Erwin took after her more than he did his father. The resemblance was most evident in their eyes, large and icy blue, and in their wide, clumsy hands that weren’t made to play the piano.

“Your father,” she began, then stopped, like she always did when she caught herself making excuses for him. She watched him type away at a report for school. “How’s school been lately?”

Erwin glanced up from his laptop. “Fine.”

She was quiet for a little bit. “How’s Mike?”

“He’s pretty sure his dad’s gotten a new girlfriend.”

“Oh, is that why he keeps askin' to hang out over here?”

Erwin nodded, hardly daring to hope she’d say what he wanted her to say. His mother leaned in the doorway, pushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead and deliberating for a moment. Then she said, “Well, I don’t see why not. He can come over this Saturday if he wants.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” He didn’t want to sabotage his first time being allowed to have Mike over, but he also didn’t want his father to feel threatened by a supposed snub at his authority and go into one of his moods that would permeate throughout the household like a toxin.

His mother pursed her lips. “It’s my house, too,” she said, more to herself than to him, before withdrawing into the hallway. Erwin went back to his laptop and messaged Mike about the good news.

 _Holy shit who died_ was Mike’s response. _Oh my god was it me? am I dreaming??_

_Are you coming or not? We can get chips or something._

_I’m sold_

\- 

Mike called half an hour before he was supposed to come over on Saturday. Neither one of Erwin’s parents were home, his father having given him a list of things they weren’t allowed to do, watch, or touch while they had the house to themselves. Erwin stared at the phone for a moment before answering, suddenly afraid that Mike was going to bail.

“I hate to ask,” Mike said, “but is it okay if I bring someone along?”

Erwin’s eyes flickered to the list his father had left beside the phone. There wasn’t a rule specifying only Mike was allowed over. “That’s fine.”

“My dad’s girlfriend’s son,” Mike went on. “I told my dad I was going to your place today and he thought it’d be a great chance for us to get acquainted. He lives on the other side of the city so we might be a little late.”

“A little late” turned out to be almost an extra hour of waiting. Erwin scoured the living room for a movie that hadn’t been shown at their church’s movie night functions a dozen times before. The doorbell rang as he was debating what else they could do.

“I hope you brought a movie or a board game or something because—” Erwin stopped short, opening the door expecting to see Mike and coming face-to-face with a total stranger. He was shorter than Mike, though taller than Erwin, and his dark hair was cut in something that vaguely resembled a mohawk, but not really. Erwin forgot whatever else he was going to say; it was hard to think straight when someone so oddly attractive was standing on his doorstep.

Mike prodded the guy into the house, looking at Erwin curiously as he continued to just stand there with the door and his mouth open. Erwin had never thought of someone as attractive before, much less another boy. The idea was so utterly absurd and wrong.

“This is Nile,” Mike said once Erwin collected himself and joined them in the living room. “He’s a junior. He goes to a public high school.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nile said, holding out his right hand before realizing Erwin didn’t have one. He muttered a hasty apology. Erwin was too busy scrutinizing him back to care. If he was a junior, then that would make him about two years older than Mike and Erwin. He had a small amount of stubble, though it paled in comparison to the mustache Mike had been growing for the past few months. Erwin was struck with a bizarre mental sensation of how rough and scratchy it would feel against his own skin, and how pleasant that would be.

There wasn’t much to do at the house, so Erwin took them on a tour of the neighborhood, taking care to walk ahead of them so he couldn’t ogle Nile any further. His family lived in a small neighborhood with lots of trees. It reminded him of their house back in Georgia, where they’d lived miles outside the city limits in the middle of a forest. Mike and Nile were both thoroughly unimpressed with all the nature.

“No offense, but what’s so great about a bunch of trees?” Nile asked about twenty minutes into their walk. “I’m pretty sure one oak looks the same as any other.”

Erwin shrugged. “I like bein’ outside.” He liked going for walks and getting lost. There was a sense of endless, unbridled freedom about having to find his own way around that he couldn’t really explain to someone who looked like he was about to have an allergic reaction to the pollen.

“So how do you—” Nile said as they ended up walking toward the center of the city. “I mean, is it hard having just one arm?”

“Nile,” Mike said, elbowing him.

“It’s fine,” Erwin said. When he returned to school after the accident he’d had to endure the question repeated ad nauseam from the entire freshman class. “It just took a while to readjust, is all.”

“Ah,” Nile said, looking sheepish. “Good. That’s, uh, good.”

The following autumn Nile became Mike’s stepbrother, and on the few occasions his parents would let him go over to their house Erwin tried his best to ignore him. The only person he could have told about the odd tingling feeling that seeped through his body whenever he thought too hard about Nile was Mike, and it would have been incredibly awkward for the both of them if he were to ever admit he liked looking at Mike’s stepbrother in ways he wasn’t supposed to.

Nile was a puzzle. He lost his temper and swore a lot when he played video games or watched sports, and he didn’t say grace before eating. Erwin himself had always felt a bit like a liar when he recited the words that he’d memorized long before he understood what they meant—they felt empty on his tongue, and yet he would have felt twice as guilty if he ever stopped saying them. Nile was open and unbothered about his lack of faith. It was intriguing.

The summer after tenth grade, Mr. and Mrs. Zacharius decided that the best way for Mike and Nile to solidify their brotherly bond was to send Nile to church camp with Mike and Erwin. It was quite clear to Erwin that Nile had little to no interest in going, but, as he had come to notice, Nile didn’t enjoy picking fights if he could help it. He would go to camp if it would make his and Mike’s parents happy.

-

Their church went to the same camp every year. It was held on the campus of a private college down in the mountains of North Carolina, about a ten hour drive from the city. Their church was small and couldn’t afford buses, so their entire youth group was crammed into the vehicles of the youth pastor and any parents who were willing to volunteer.

Their youth pastor was an off-beat old man named Mr. Pixis who on more than one occasion had come to Sunday school smelling strongly of alcohol. For the past two years Erwin and Mike had been forced to ride with him in his compact Prius, an experience neither one of them was eager to repeat. Fortunately for them Nile was old enough (and experienced enough for Erwin’s parents’ taste) to drive them and a couple of their friends.

“Let’s sing show tunes,” Hange suggested about twenty minutes into the drive, CDs poised. “I have the soundtrack to Les Mis, Phantom, The Lion King, Rent . . .”

“We listened to those last year,” Moblit said. “Multiple times. Don’t you have anything new?” And that was how they ended up listening to some kind of alternative electronic house music for the next two hours.

Mike, Hange, and Moblit were squeezed in the back seat of the car. Erwin sat shot gun and tried very hard to keep his eyes on the road, but he could see Nile’s reflection in the glass. It allowed him to see the way Nile had to squint in order to see far off and the way his face contorted when he cursed under his breath in fits of road rage. He drove at least ten miles over the speed limit the whole way there, which might have scared Erwin if it hadn’t been so thrilling.

Like every year, the camp lasted for five days and consisted of multiple activities, most of which required members of different churches to mingle with each other. Erwin had morning Bible study with a group of thirty other teenagers from across the country, and had his two afternoon physical activities with a mixture of strangers and members of his own church. He and Mike signed up for the creative writing and world religion courses every summer, but this year there wasn’t enough room for both of them, so Erwin ended up taking extreme dodge ball with Nile. They had to hike up part of a mountain to get to the court.

“What’s the difference between normal dodge ball and extreme dodge ball?” Nile panted as they picked their way up the trail. There was a rope that threaded through the trees for campers like him and Erwin to hang onto if need be. Erwin grabbed hold of it and held tight for a few minutes so he could catch his breath.

“I have no idea,” he puffed. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

Extreme dodge ball required them to be tied together at the ankle, which seemed unnecessarily dangerous to Erwin. He opted to have his right ankle tied to Nile so he could use his arm. He took no mercy on anyone who thought that he was an easy target, least of all Nile, whom he dragged around the court and used as a shield when necessary.

“That’s low, having me take the fall for you,” Nile said sullenly as he and Erwin sat in the opposing team’s jail, right under the blazing glare of the sun. They’d been disqualified after Nile was beaned squarely between the eyes.

“I have faster reflexes,” Erwin said, unperturbed. He surveyed the court, watching to see if a stray dodge ball would come their way. “I thought that in the grand scheme of things it would be most beneficial if the other team focused on hittin’ you so I could get the work done more efficiently.”

“Thanks,” Nile said, scowling. “Okay, brainiac, if you’re so smart, how did you forget that if I’m hit then you get disqualified, too?”

Erwin had taken that into account. The fact of the matter was that it had grown harder and harder for him to concentrate on the game the sweatier Nile got against him, so he’d decided to take them out of the game before things got any more slippery. “I thought we could use a break.”

After dinner and evening Bible study there was a two-hour period where the campers could wander around and do as they pleased. At Bible study the third night, their church group began bouncing around ideas of an end-of-the-week activity. In the past they’d gone into town to see a movie or taken a kayaking trip. This year Mr. Pixis suggested they hike up to the top of one of the mountains to watch the sun rise.

“I can barely walk as it is,” Nile complained as they wandered around after Bible study adjourned. Sure enough, he was hobbling, and stopped every few feet to touch his calves and give a loud run down of all of his muscular ailments. He and Erwin sat down on a bench, watching as Mike and Hange struggled to get one of the college’s vending machines to take their dollar bills while Moblit stood to one side looking anxious.

“You don’t have to push yourself,” Erwin said. “You can opt out of the trip if you want.”

“I don’t really want to hang around this place by myself, though.”

“I can stay,” Erwin offered, seized with a kind of fear that Nile would suddenly suspect that he had ulterior motives. Nile only looked relieved. Just in case, Erwin added, “My parents don’t allow me to participate in strenuous activities, so I’m not really in the best shape to go trekkin’ up a mountain, either.”

“Yeah. The only exercise I get these days is with my wrists,” Nile said.

“You _do_ play a lot of video games.”

Nile snorted. “Yeah, that’s totally what I meant. You’re such a prude.”

He was wrong about that, Erwin thought. He glanced sidelong at Nile to see him smirking, the expression not unfriendly. If anything the genuine affection on Nile’s face caught Erwin so off guard that he shot off the bench and jogged over to the vending machine, mowing past Mike and the others so he could ram his shoulder into it and knock their stuck drinks loose.

As they walked back to the dorms Erwin could hear Nile telling Mike about their plans for Friday. Mike expressed his surprise. “You sure, Erwin? I know how you love the outdoors,” he called.

“The mountain will be here next year,” he replied. “And Nile might not be.”

“I definitely won’t be,” Nile said. “I mean, it’s been fun and all, but it’s just not my thing.”

The next day, Thursday, passed without much event. The camp set up a giant game of manhunt as the final nightly activity of the week. Erwin, Nile, and Mike were the only ones from their church who played.

“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow, Mike?” Nile asked, not sounding too pleased at being squashed between him and Erwin where they hid in a bush. Mike grunted in reply, peering between the leaves. Erwin tried to follow his gaze and see what had caught his attention so raptly, startled when Mike hissed, “Over here!”

“Mike, you idiot, you’re going to blow our cover!” Nile said, scrambling away from the bush at the sound of footsteps. Erwin followed suit. They hid behind a nearby tree trunk together and watched as a camper with short blond hair and an Utgard Episcopal Church T shirt stuck their head over the bush.

“That you, Mike?” the camper said, stepping over the bush and crouching down next to him.

“Yeah.” A broad smile spread across Mike’s face. Erwin had never seen him look so happy. He glanced away when Mike leaned forward and kissed the camper. “Did anyone see you?”

“Just Renée, but she’s on my team, so.” The camper shrugged, then smiled mischievously. “I probably have an hour before anyone else starts missing me. What could we possibly do for so long?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Mike said. He got to his feet and took the camper’s hand, slipping into the woods without another glance to where Nile and Erwin hid, dumbfounded.

“Holy shit,” Nile said after a minute or two. “My baby brother is getting laid at _church camp_.”

On behalf of Mike’s dignity Erwin felt compelled to say, “They might just talk.”

“Oh, yeah, they’re just going off in the middle of the woods where no one can see them to discuss the New Testament,” Nile said. “I, too, get a boner just thinking about the Book of Revelation.”

“ _Nile_ ,” Erwin said, aghast. He’d never heard someone speak so crassly about the Bible before.

“Who was that, anyway?”

“Someone from Utgard Episcopal Church, I guess.” Erwin straightened up, stretching the ache out of his lower back. “I had no idea Mike was seeing anyone.”

“More like smelling.”

After the game ended they returned to their dorm rooms. Mike and Nile were in a room together and Erwin was with Moblit, who was already fast asleep when Erwin got back. Erwin stayed awake for another hour or two, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Moblit was gone when he woke up the next morning and went to collect Nile so they could go to the final service of the camp.

Nile kept his eyes on the projector screen most of the time, since he didn’t know the lyrics to any of the songs that were played. Over the years Erwin had seen many people reduced to tears and uncontrollable fits of emotion during the services, but Nile only ever looked a bit lost. After the service ended other campers spread out to take pictures with their churches or start packing up. The two of them wandered around the campus, going slow since their legs were still sore.

“Any idea when they’re supposed to come back?” Nile asked. “Sunrise was almost four hours ago. I wonder if they got lost.”

Erwin shrugged. Knowing Mr. Pixis, he might have decided to hold his own sermon up on the mountaintop. Despite the aching in their legs, after another hour passed, they decided they would have to go up the mountain and retrieve them, since Mike wasn’t answering his cell phone.

“C’mon, Mike,” Nile groaned as they stood at the foot of the mountain. He shoved his cell phone into his pocket when no one picked up and gestured for Erwin to go first. The climb was hellish and hot and sweaty, and Erwin hoped to God he wouldn’t lose his footing and send him and Nile tumbling down the mountain—which was exactly what happened about twenty minutes into their climb. His hand was so sweaty that the rope slid out of his grasp and he lost his balance, falling back on Nile and sending them skidding down through a few yards of brambles and tree roots.

“Your elbow’s poking my junk,” Nile said in a terse, high-pitched tone when they came to a stop. Erwin pulled himself away as best he could and leaned against a nearby tree. They sat for a moment and caught their breath. Nile began to laugh helplessly. “This has been a shit week. I’m never doing this again.”

“Well . . . at least it was a . . . new experience,” Erwin said between gulps of air.

Nile made a face. “I’m not like you. I don’t want to be adventurous.” He winced and stretched one of his legs out. There were a few shallow cuts on his knee. He took a long sip of water from his camel pack, then offered the tube to Erwin. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like me or something?”

Erwin’s first reaction was to choke on the water and hope that it would provide a distraction, but he’d been raised to have more poise than that. He finished drinking the water and settled back against the tree in what he hoped was a casual way. “What makes you think that?” he asked, partly to dodge the question and partly because he was curious.

“Dude, you have the biggest boner I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many boners. Er.” Nile coughed and looked away. Erwin took care to pull his legs to his chest before he could look back. 

“I just love the outdoors,” Erwin said. “So much.”

“Oh. Oh, right. Yeah. Wow, I sound like a conceited ass. Sorry.”

“I was kidding. I do like you.” Erwin rested his chin on his knees and looked around the forest, trying to focus on something other than how incredibly vulnerable he felt. “. . . I guess that’s weird.”

“Nah. No, of course not. No,” Nile said hastily. There was a beat. “What do you like about me?”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering.”

Nile punched his shoulder. “Oh, thanks!” he grumbled. “Geez, you’re so weird.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you really are. But I guess that’s part of your charm.”

Nile’s fist unfurled against Erwin’s shoulder. Erwin generally didn’t like it when people touched his stump, but he supposed he could make an exception just this once. He met Nile’s eyes and saw them go wide when he said, “Do you want to make out?”

“What?” Nile squawked.

“Oh. Is that weird to ask?”

“Only because you don’t usually _ask_ , you just—you just _do_ it. Y’know, hearts all aflutter and loins ablaze in fiery passion.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Erwin said. Nile laughed so hard he snorted, oblivious to the fact that Erwin was being honest. He didn’t like doing things unless he could think them over beforehand. When Nile collected himself he leaned over and took hold of Erwin’s jaw, staring at him for a few seconds before kissing him. Erwin went stiff, not sure what to do. Nile seemed to have experience kissing. His stubble did feel rough against Erwin’s skin, sending little thrills through his body.

They moved without really discussing what they were doing. Before too long it devolved into a jumble of limbs, grabbing at whatever part of each other they could get hold of and grinding their hips. Erwin touched the front of Nile’s shorts and gasped when Nile did the same for him. Erwin had never touched himself before, mostly because his bedroom had no door and the bathroom had no lock.

He didn’t know how far they might have gone if he hadn’t heard the faint but unmistakable sound of Mr. Pixis’s voice float down from somewhere up the trail. He and Nile pushed each other away. Nile went back to the rope and guarded his eyes against the sunlight, squinting. He was drenched in sweat and his chest was heaving; hopefully the others would think it was from climbing up the mountain.

“Ah, Mr. Dawk!” Mr. Pixis said. “You should have joined us this morning. The sunrise was beautiful.”

Erwin braced himself against the tree and got to his feet. At the rear of the group was Mike, who noticed that Erwin was covered in dirt and scratches. “What happened to you?”

“Tripped. Mind helping me down?” Now that Erwin wasn’t brimming with hormones and was on his feet he noticed the searing pain in his left ankle. Mike hooked his arm over his shoulder and helped him down the mountain.

“So, Mike,” Nile said on Mike’s other side. “What was all that about last night?”

“Hmm?”

“That Utgard Episcopal kid you went off with.”

“Oh, Nanaba? We caught fireflies.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“Nile,” Mike said, sounding gravely injured, “I did not have sex with Nanaba at church camp. Who does something like that?”

Erwin stumbled again, grabbing hold of Mike’s long hair to keep himself from falling. Mike hoisted him up on his back once they touched flat ground and carried him back to the dorm, telling Nile all about his purity ring even after Nile made it clear he wasn’t listening anymore.

“Christ, okay, I was kidding,” Erwin heard Nile say from the next room. “Mike, shut up about how you’re abstaining until marriage, I _don’t care_.”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Mike said, just before there was a violent smack. When Erwin and Moblit met back up with them at Nile’s car they were both sporting a large bruise on their foreheads. Hange called shot gun for the trip back. Erwin sat on the right of the back seat, as far from Nile as he could get in the small car. During the drive he glanced up at the rearview mirror a few times and saw Nile glancing back.

“Did you have a good time?” his mother asked when they arrived back at the church. She helped Erwin carry his luggage to their truck, where his father sat waiting with the windows rolled down.”

“Yeah. It was . . . an experience.”

-

He stopped going to camp after that year. When his father asked him why he didn't want to go again he said that he wanted to put the money needed for the fees toward college, which was true, if not the exact reason why he didn’t want to go back. He couldn’t really explain it himself and didn’t want to figure out why. After that summer Nile went off to military college in a different state. Erwin supposed it was all for the best. Junior year went by much too fast, and the summer before senior year he realized—or rather, finally admitted to himself—that he didn’t want to join the ministry like his father wanted him to.

It was his turn to sit his parents down in the living room for a talk. All he said was that he hadn’t felt a calling to the ministry and that he thought it would be best if he went to college to study education.

“Son,” his father said, “your mother and I haven’t saved up all these years to send you to college so you could slave away in a classroom for thirty more years.”

“My grades are good,” he said, which was an understatement. If he kept them up for the next year he’d be valedictorian. “I could get a scholarship for Sina University. Their education program is the best in the state. Please.”

His father sighed, shutting his eyes. Erwin could see a kind of weariness on his smooth, bony face. When he opened his eyes he looked at Erwin with what could only be described as disappointment. “You’ll have to pay your own way.”

“Dear—” his mother said.

“Eudora,” his father said sharply. “He would need to get a Master’s degree to earn any kind of decent money. We just can’t afford that.”

Erwin watched them argue. He’d seen them argue plenty of times before, over things like what to wear to his recitals or to family reunions, or what kind of furniture would leave the best impression on guests they never had over. He stood up and left the living room, walking to the front door and down the front walk. He walked for the first time in his life with a purpose, thinking hard. It took him a couple of hours to reach Ms. Sarah’s house, at which point he more or less knew what he was going to do. She answered on the third ring, staring up at him in shock for a moment before throwing her arms around him.

“Oh, Erwin, dear, it’s been ages,” she said breathlessly, inviting him in. The dogs swarmed him, tails wagging. “Those cards—it’s so nice to send cards, but it’s just not the same. How have you been? Look how _tall_ you are now, you’re all grown.”

“I’m fi—” He didn’t want to worry her, but lying didn’t come naturally to him. “. . . I’ve just had a fight with my parents. About college.”

“Ah,” she said. She led him to the kitchen and sat him down at the table. She sat across from him, nodding understandingly. “I’ve been there. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I want to go into education, but my father isn’t willing to help pay unless I go into the ministry. It’s—I realize I’m fortunate to have parents able to help me at all, but it’s so conditional that I . . . I just don’t want his help. I want to pay for it all myself.”

She smiled. “You sound just like my son. He wanted to be able to do everything on his own. I wanted him to go into the medical field but he was set and determined to study creative writing. He wasn’t able to pay for it himself at the time, but he got a book deal a few years ago and has been rubbing it in my face ever since.” She smiled wider and laughed. “I was trying to say something encouraging with that. I guess, if it’s what you really want to do, then you should do it. I’m sure you could get a full ride somewhere.”

Erwin picked up one of the dogs and held her in his lap, thinking. “Even then there would still be some leftover fees. I got a job over the summer, but it’s minimum wage.”

“I’d tell you to be frugal but I’m the last person who should be saying that.” She gestured around the kitchen a little self-consciously. Erwin looked around at all of the expensive silverware and appliances, taking that as his cue.

“Can I have your son’s phone number?”

She looked at him curiously. “No, he wouldn’t answer an unknown number. He really only answers if it's from me. What about his email? Not his work one, he might not notice you there . . . I’ll give you his personal one.”

Erwin pulled the piece of paper with Levi’s email out of his jeans pocket when he got home, setting it on his desk and staring at it. He wasn’t sure what he should say to Levi that wouldn’t be a lie, yet he thought it would be rather rude to say upfront he was only interested in Levi’s money. He slept on it, then slept on it again, and ended up waiting until December to type up a short email just asking him to lunch. To his surprise, Levi responded. 

_I guess._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin has the sniffles

Levi’s family wasn’t religious, so they didn’t make any pretense of celebrating Christmas for any reason other than exchanging presents, usually in the form of non-sentimental checks and gift cards. He would have stayed in his apartment and worked like it was any other holiday if it weren’t for his younger cousins.

Isabel and Farlan were cousins to each other as well as to Levi, but since they were both being raised by Farlan’s family they considered themselves siblings. They were prone to committing minor acts of felony on an alarmingly regular basis, though Farlan at least had the sense to act ashamed when he was caught, if only _because_ he’d gotten caught. Isabel reminded Levi of a feral cat—she did as she pleased and wasn’t afraid to turn her claws on whatever tried to obstruct her. 

They were the only members of Levi’s extended family who were any sort of fun to be around and they were also the only ones who ever made an active effort to visit him (not that he could blame the rest of the family; he never voluntarily visited them either). There was no doubt in his mind who decided to kick the holy bejesus out of his door around dinnertime on Christmas Eve.

He closed his laptop and went to the door before they could dent it. Sure enough, there stood Isabel in her usual winter attire of three scarves, two baggy sweaters, and a precarious tower of knitted hats, one of which had been Farlan’s at some point. Farlan was red-faced and shivering, bundled only in a hoodie and lopsided earmuffs. They rushed through the doorway the second Levi stood aside.

“Holy shit!” Isabel exclaimed after she peeled one of the scarves away from her mouth. “It’s colder than Loki’s ass crack out there!”

“I can’t feel my nose,” Farlan said, which would explain why he hadn’t done anything about the frozen trail of snot peeking out from his left nostril.

Levi grabbed the Kleenx box he kept on the kitchen counter and held it out for him. “Did either of you think to ask for permission to come here?”

“Nope!” Isabel said cheerfully. “We snuck away while Dad was cooking.” Levi patted her head through the mound of hats. She’d gotten taller since the last time they’d seen each other. At the rate she was going she’d be Levi’s height before too long. She would be in the seventh grade now, which meant Farlan was in the sixth.

They made themselves at home in his sitting room, scooping up the cat and propping their feet on the coffee table even though they knew they weren’t supposed to. Levi supposed it wouldn’t be very jolly of him to throw them back out into the cold so soon, so he tolerated it, just for today.

Petra called a few minutes later to wish him an early birthday. “Do you have any plans?” she asked as he rummaged through the fridge for something he could make for dinner. “Got a hot date?”

“Oh, please.” 

She laughed. “I think I know what that thank-you was for, Levi. You’re always in a pleasant mood whenever you meet someone who’s good at—”

“I’m in the presence of my two young cousins, Petra,” he said, shutting the fruit drawer as loud as he could. “I’d watch my mouth if I were you.”

“If they’re _your_ cousins then I’m sure it’s nothing they haven’t heard before.” She was right, of course. Levi wasn’t fazed by much but even he had been brought up short the first time Isabel said the word “fuck” around him. “So did you?”

“Yeah, what of it? Jealous?”

“No way. I’ve seen the type of guys you like, Levi. They’re scary.”

Even though Petra was resolute and fearless, the fact of the matter was that she was even smaller than Levi was and didn’t share his attraction to cocky men who were taller than average. She wasn’t even attracted to men at all, but that was beside the point—her girlfriend was also tiny.

“He’s not.”

“Hmm?”

“He’s not scary.” Levi paused. “Not in the usual way. Overall he’s a peach.”

“Oh, Levi,” she said, excitement or perhaps disbelief causing her voice to rise a pitch, “you mean you’re still seeing him?”

“We have an arrangement.” That was the best way to describe it. He certainly wouldn’t call it dating.

“That’s great! I’d love to meet him.”

“Hell no.” Petra made some kind of disappointed noise and promised she wouldn’t embarrass him just yet. Levi curtly wished her a merry Christmas and hung up.

He straightened up from where he’d been crouched in front of the fridge and saw Isabel and Farlan peering at him from the other side of the counter. They shared a glance before fixating their eyes back on him, like birds of prey zeroing in on an unfortunate rodent.

“Big brother has a boyfriiiiend,” Isabel sang.

Levi scowled. “Where did you hear such shitty nonsense?”

“We read your email,” she said, oblivious to the frantic way Farlan motioned for her to shut up.

Twenty minutes later they were still lurking outside his door, too tired to continue kicking but in possession of enough strength to holler bastardized carols at the top of their lungs. When that proved ineffective in getting Levi to let them back in Isabel began to whine that she wanted coffee.

Levi emerged, dressed in his favorite winter coat, gloves, boots, and scarf. It was an ostentatious get-up that was, along with his car, one of the few blatantly expensive things he allowed himself to own. “If I take you two out, will you shut up?” he asked, not believing their too-quick chorus of affirmation for a minute. 

It was snowing heavily. Levi didn’t want to risk getting his car messed up in these conditions, so they walked from his apartment to a string of restaurants nearby. Most of them were closing down already, though there had to be a few places run by fellow heathens still open. At the very least they could look.

They heard proper carolers as they walked—there were whole groups of them out and about tonight. When the carolers weren’t singing they were laughing and enjoying themselves despite the cold. As they walked on the opposite side of the street of a group of Baptists Levi could have sworn the tall guy in their group had a mustache. Before he could get a closer look Isabel called for him to hurry up and he turned away.

Isabel dragged him into a café, warm and no doubt overpriced (not that that was any problem), and plopped down in one of the large, cushy armchairs clustered along the left wall. Farlan followed Levi to the menu and looked at all of the choices thoroughly before telling him in a solemn voice that he wanted something mocha flavored. From her chair Isabel piped that she wanted an espresso.

Evidently she had no idea what an espresso was, because she scrunched her face up at the tiny cup Levi brought back to her and scrunched it up even more after she drank it. She then proceeded to try mooching off Farlan’s coffee. For once Farlan didn’t let her have her way and when she turned pleading eyes on Levi he sighed and went back to the register.

The cashier, a honey-blond guy with jittery hands, had watched them since they came in and chuckled when he saw Levi come back. “Kids these days sure love their coffee,” he said good-naturedly.

“They sure do,” Levi said, watching Farlan bite at Isabel’s hand when she tried to steal his cup. “She wants a mocha thing like the boy has.”

“No problem. Oh—” He looked up at the door when the bells tied to the door jingled. “Welcome to the Sawney Bean.”

As Levi wondered who in their right mind would name a coffee shop such a disgusting thing he let his gaze wander over to where Isabel and Farlan sat, intending to make sure they weren’t up to something. From the corner of his eye he noticed who’d just entered the shop. He turned his head quickly and ignored the approaching footsteps. The cashier promised to be with the new customers in just a minute.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said under his breath, glancing up. Erwin met his eyes for a second before returning his attention to the girl he’d come in with.

“Hey Mary, Erwin,” the cashier said when he brought Levi his coffee. “I thought you were out caroling with the church?”

“We’ve been sent to buy drinks,” Erwin replied. His voice sounded thick and scratchy. He and Mary certainly looked like they’d been tromping around in the snow. Their hair was damp and their faces were chapped. He coughed a bit before asking, “Where’s Hange?”

“Up in Canada for the whole Christmas break,” the cashier said with a sigh. “The boss said I should stay open tonight just for people like you. Shrewd, huh?”

Levi didn’t miss the way Isabel and Farlan perked up and began to lean in their chairs so they could eavesdrop better. He didn’t really care if they’d put two and two together and suspected this Erwin was the same one from his email. For all their questionable tendencies, Levi’s cousins weren’t snitches.

“A mocha for Her Fussiness,” he said when he handed Isabel the coffee. “What do we say?”

“Finally!” She ripped the lid off and began to chug it down. Farlan, who’d been taking small sips of his own as he waited for it to cool down, looked appalled. Levi himself preferred tea over coffee any day. He crossed his legs and tried to keep his attention focused out the window while Isabel and Farlan enjoyed their drinks. He jumped when someone touched his shoulder.

“I’m sorry!” It was the girl Erwin had come in with. She looked surprised at how violently he’d flinched under her touch. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are these your kids?”

“Cousins.”

“I just wanted to say—” She turned to Isabel, beaming. “That’s the cutest hat I’ve ever seen. Where did you get it?”

Isabel reached up and pulled off the outermost hat, revealing the second one. The first one was pale blue and patterned with tiny snowflakes and snow globes. The second one was dark red and patterned with candy canes. “Big brother knitted them! This one was Farlan’s before he said I could have it.”

Mary sat down in a nearby chair and took the snowflake hat when Isabel held it out for her. “Wow. I tried to take up knitting one time. I was terrible.”

Levi could see Erwin reading orders off a long list at the register. When he was done he slid the paper into the pocket of his jacket and turned, meeting Levi’s eyes again. He stood still for a moment before coming over and sitting in the only available chair in their circle.

“Caroling, huh?” Levi said, moving his propped-up foot so it bumped against Erwin’s knee ever so slightly.

“Mm-hm. Our church does it every year,” Mary said. “What about you three?”

“These little delinquents ran away from home, so I took them out for coffee to celebrate.”

Mary stared at him, her thin red mouth pulled into a puzzled half-smile as she tried to figure out if he was kidding or not. She must have decided he was, because she laughed and patted Erwin’s other knee. “Erwin here is the best baritone in our choir, but he has a cold and figured he’d come get drinks for everyone, so I tagged along to help.”

“You just wanted to get out of the snow,” Erwin said, not sounding accusatory or even teasing. He merely sounded matter-of-fact.

“That, too,” Mary said, laughing again. “Sorry about all the orders, Moblit!”

“S’all good,” Moblit called back tiredly.

Levi pressed his foot against Erwin’s knee just a breadth closer. “Have you paid for the drinks yet?” he asked. He noted with interest how Erwin’s leg began to shake, jostling his foot. Mary tilted her head to the side and looked much like Isabel did whenever she learned a new swear word: confused and interested all at once. “How much were they?”

“Um . . . I think about thirty dollars in all? Almost everyone pitched in to help pay.”

Levi had spent the better part of two decades trying to hide and deny how wealthy his family was. In retrospect it seemed silly to brood about having so much money when he could have utilized it for something constructive, and now he felt the sudden urge to do just that. He heard himself say something along the lines of, “Consider it a donation for your church” as he handed Mary ten neatly folded fifty-dollar bills, then seized Isabel and Farlan by their collars and carried them outside without a second glance.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Farlan said, looking up over his shoulder as Levi pushed him along. He elbowed Isabel, who instead of thanking Levi said, “Was that your boyfriend?”

“No. He’s more like an employee.” Even though that didn’t really sound right, he felt that they didn’t need to know what a gold digger was.

For the remainder of the walk back to Levi’s apartment, they seemed satisfied with that answer. As they went up the steps Isabel turned to Farlan and whispered, “Big brother is a _cougar_.”

“Who is a what, now?” Levi said testily.

“Is that you, Levi?” came a sharp, breathless voice from the landing. A man appeared on the top step of the stairs. He was short and dark-haired, like the majority of Levi’s relatives, and wrapped in a heavy overcoat stuffed with several scarves at the neck. His nostrils flared as he jabbed a gloved finger down at Levi. “I knew it! I _knew_ they would be with you.” 

Levi’s charitable mood vanished in an instant. His father’s youngest brother was similar to Levi in many ways, which seemed to be why they couldn’t stand each other. The main difference between them was that his uncle was always trying to reign in his children’s antics whereas Levi encouraged them simply by not doing anything to dissuade them.

“I wondered what that stench was,” Levi said when he reached the landing. “And here I thought Shadis’s dog had taken a shit on the steps again.”

His uncle flushed dark scarlet. “I expect you to _call_ me the next time my children show up on your doorstep. My wife and I were worried sick—anything could have happened to them, tromping around the city by themselves at their age—”

“Then I’m sure you want to head back as soon as possible,” Levi interrupted. “Tell your wife I said hi.”

“My wife hates you.”

“The sentiment’s reciprocated.” Levi set one hand each on Isabel and Farlan’s shoulders and pushed them toward their father. “It’s been fun, but I have work to do.”

“Work!” he heard his uncle say as he went down the stairs with the kids in tow. “I didn’t know sitting on my ass in front of a computer all day and writing trashy novels could count as _work_ . . .”

Levi’s uncle had skated by through life on little more than their family’s wealth and reputation for close to four decades and therefore, in Levi’s opinion, had no business determining what did or didn’t count as real work. Levi kicked his door shut behind him and kneeled down to unlace his boots. Titania emerged from her usual perch on the back of the couch. She batted at the tassels of his scarf while he set his boots aside.

It was nearing dusk. Barely a minute passed before Levi’s cell phone rang, which was several hours sooner than he expected it to. He pried Titania from his scarf so he could unwrap it from around his neck and answered his phone on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?” He continued undressing himself piecemeal as he walked down the hall to his bedroom.

“You aren’t obligated to pay for things like that.” It was hard to say if Erwin sounded disgruntled or just embarrassed, mostly because his voice was so hoarse. “Things outside of school-related fees . . . maybe I should have been clearer last time.”

Levi cradled the phone as he hung his scarf up neatly and shrugged out of his coat. “Well, I thought Christmas was all about charitable giving.”

Whatever Erwin tried to say in response was cut short by a fit of coughing. By the sound of it he was worse off than he’d let on in the coffee shop. Levi sat down on the edge of his bed, crossed his legs, and waited.

“It is,” Erwin managed to say. “But would you have done something like that if I hadn’t been there?”

“No,” Levi said, feeling irritated, more at himself than anything. “I’m not usually in the habit of charitable giving. Maybe I’ve seen the light.”

Erwin’s silence managed to convey a sense of mild incredulity.

“Maybe I just wanted to rub all my money in your face, then.” Levi set the phone on speaker and tossed it to the side so he could pull his sweater off. “Does it really bother you?”

“I reckon so.”

It bothered Levi, too. He checked his watch. It was only a little after six. “Where are you right now? Still running around in the snow with a cold?”

“Yes. Even if I can’t sing I can still run errands.”

“I think,” Levi said, slow and clear, “that you should call it a night and come swing by my place. I have a present for you.”

Erwin was silent again. Without the coughing Levi could hear the faint sound of caroling in the background. He could just imagine Erwin as he forced himself to stand in the cold, away from the rest of the church group while they went about their business, out of some unfathomable sense of obligation.

“. . . You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Levi said when the silence seemed as if it would stretch on until New Year’s.

“I want to,” Erwin said. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

He hung up without preamble. Levi ended the call and stared at his phone before setting it on the nightstand. He spent the next half hour jotting down ideas in his notebook, shutting it when the doorbell toned.

A blast of frigid air swept in through the kitchen when he opened the door to let Erwin in. He regretted taking off his sweater. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. He stepped around Erwin and went to the kitchen. “I have water and tea.”

“Tea, please.”

He heard the sound of cloth and fabric rustling as Erwin peeled off his wet clothes, as well as the resulting sound of water dripping on the floor. He could tolerate it just this once, he supposed, hoisting himself on the counter so he could reach the cabinet where he kept the cups.

Levi leaned against the counter while he waited for the water to boil. Erwin sat in one of the kitchen chairs, stripped down to a navy blue Salt Life T shirt. Levi tossed him a dish towel so he could dry his hair.

“What do you plan to study at college?” Levi asked to pass the time.

“Education. I want to be a language arts teacher.” Erwin pulled the dish towel down and set it on the counter. His thick blond hair stood up at odd angles, making him look a bit like a chocobo’s rear end. “My mother used to be a journalist and she writes in her spare time, so I’ve always been interested in that kind of thing,” he went on. “I’m not really cut out for a job like yours, though. I’m more interested in the technical aspect.”

“And it _is_ a job,” Lev muttered, remembering his uncle’s words from earlier with resentment.

“Miss Sarah was always tellin' me how much you love to write. She said you entered a lot of contests when you were younger and won most of them.”

“Did you ever actually learn anything about the piano from my mother or did you spend the whole time gossiping about me?” Levi asked irritably. He pushed away from the counter and removed the kettle from the burner when it started whistling.

“She always sounded proud of you.”

Levi almost spilled hot water everywhere. He might have imagined it, but Erwin’s tone made it sound like his parents had never said anything of the sort to him. He had a hard time imagining what that would be like—both of his parents, even his father, who was always away on business, made an effort to demonstrate their love for him, to the point that it had driven him away. He felt even more foolish than he had earlier.

They drank the tea in silence. Levi couldn’t help noticing how the cup, which was a good size for him, looked absurdly tiny in Erwin’s hand. He could hardly fit two of his fingers around the handle. It gave him an idea.

“So what are you hoping to get for Christmas?” he asked. He moved a foot and set it right on top of one of Erwin’s. He’d taken his shoes and even his socks off. His skin was wet and clammy from the cold.

Erwin set his cup down, taking a sudden interest in the sink. “My family doesn’t exchange gifts. I usually get a card from your mother and Mike and that’s about it.”

“How boring.” Levi moved his foot up Erwin’s leg, brushing it against the damp denim of his jeans, stopping when he felt his belt. “If you _did_ give gifts, what would you want?”

Erwin’s lips twitched. “You aren’t obligated to buy me things.”

Ah, the jittering was starting up again. “Too late. I already did.”

He removed his foot from where he’d been pressing it against Erwin’s abdomen and stood. Erwin looked doubtful when Levi urged him up and down the hall, as if he expected Levi to crack a distasteful joke about unwrapping “presents.” Levi hadn’t even done much beyond put a ribbon around the thin, hand-sized box he retrieved from his dresser. He unraveled it himself and held it out for Erwin to take the top off. Erwin’s eyebrows arched high, which in his body language must have meant he was stunned.

“I don’t think I appreciate your sense of humor,” Erwin said after a moment. He ducked his head anyway when Levi lifted the necklace up and looped it around his neck. It reached a little below his collarbones, glittering against the dark blue of his shirt. It looked deceptively plain—just a small, silver cross with a small green tourmaline fit in its center.

“I considered a dildo at first,” Levi said, smirking when Erwin’s shoulders went tense. He finished clasping the necklace and settled his hands on Erwin’s chest. “But I figured your parents would make less of a fuss if they came across this.”

“Are you suggestin' you want me to bottom?” Erwin asked, his voice sounding a little choked.

Levi tilted his head back so he could look at him and moved his hands down Erwin’s sides. He was tall and broad the way most men Levi was attracted to were, yet he was more subdued than most, as if he wouldn’t employ his strength unless absolutely necessary. It was odd. _He_ was odd.

“Don’t knock it before you try it. I’ll lend you some lube if you want.” Levi turned his back to him and went to the bedside table. As he opened the drawer he added, “With fingers like yours you’ll need a lot of it.”

Erwin said nothing when Levi pressed it into his hand. His mouth was drawn into a severe line that made him look like he’d shoved a finger in dry despite Levi’s warning. Levi ushered him back to the kitchen so he could get his shoes and jacket.

“Thank you,” Erwin said. He opened the door and stepped out. Levi wondered how long it would take him to notice the lube was labeled to look like holy water.

His phone rang the next morning, which was several hours later than he expected it to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin has gotten in over his head

It was a long drive back home. Erwin and his parents only ever went down to Georgia for family events like reunions or weddings, which usually meant it was just the three of them tucked in the car. With Mike here the trip was a little chattier, not that Erwin thought that was a bad thing.

Except to go to camp, Mike had never traveled outside the city. At some point during the drive through South Carolina he once again asked Erwin what it was like down in his hometown, as if hoping that if he asked enough times Erwin would eventually reply with something other than that there were “a lot of trees and even more churches.”

To a visitor Erwin's hometown might have appeared to be small and boring and too focused on athletics. It would an apt description, but not a complete one. Although it was true there wasn’t much to do for people who weren’t interested in running around outdoors, there _was_ more to it than a lot of trees and even more churches. Erwin just thought it would behoove Mike to figure that out for himself.

The weather in this part of Georgia at the end of December varied from year to year. Last year it had dropped down to the low thirties and gotten up everyone’s hopes that there would be snow (there wasn’t). This year the temperature settled in the mid sixties for their arrival around dusk on New Year’s Eve.

“I can’t believe this,” Mike said when they reached Erwin’s aunt’s house. He shut the car door behind him and looked around the yard, which was really more like a clearing. “I’m wearing cargo shorts in the middle of winter. I wouldn’t even _call_ this winter.”

“It’s winter all right,” Erwin said, pulling his jacket tighter and wishing he’d put on a second one.

“Come take care of your luggage, boys,” Erwin’s father said. He went off to greet his sister, who was standing on the porch with her arms crossed. Neither of them was prone to physical displays of affection, a trait Erwin and his cousin Rico both inherited. Rico at least left the porch and came over to the car to help them dislodge their duffel bags from where they’d been crammed into the small trunk space.

She didn’t say anything, not even a hello, until Mike stuck his hand out and introduced himself. From what little Erwin saw of her, he knew that she was a little stand-offish around people she didn’t know. Fortunately for them both, that didn’t bother Mike.

The house was absurdly large for just two people, which made it the perfect place for their family’s get-togethers. Their family was huge, ranging across several surnames and probably half of Sina’s population if Erwin ever cared to sit down and figure it all out. As more and more guests started to arrive Erwin pointed them out from the second-floor window of the guest room he and Mike would share with some cousins.

“That’s Ian, he’s my great-aunt’s daughter’s boyfriend’s son. . . . That’s Uncle Keith, Mom’s dad’s step-brother. And that’s Rico’s father’s sister, Aunt Ilse.”

Mike, whose family extended to his parents and Nile, looked alarmed.

“I think the stereotype that we’re all related is true, in way, but it’s mostly by marriage and because most people who grow up here don’t ever leave. A lot of businesses down here have been family-owned for generations.” Erwin left the window and set about unpacking his duffel bag. Mike continued to stare down at Erwin’s rapidly multiplying relatives in awe. “My grandfather was a real trailblazer. If he hadn’t left us his house we wouldn’t have moved.”

“Do you hate it back home?” Mike asked unexpectedly. In all the years they’d known each other they’d never asked one another something like that. Erwin stared at him. “I have no idea if you’re happy up there or not.”

Erwin thought it over. “. . . I’m not miserable, if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

“That wasn’t what I was wondering, but okay.” Mike shook his head and grinned. “You don’t have to be all aloof and secretive around me, Erwin. I’m here for you.”

There was a cough from the doorway. Rico, who’d been standing there for God knew how long, gave them each a hard look. Bluntly she asked, “So are you two datin’?”

“Nah, I’m not Erwin’s type,” Mike said, grinning. “He likes brunets.”

Erwin went back to unpacking, feigning indifference. On the inside he was panicking. Now that he thought about he did seem to favor people with dark hair on the rare occasions he was attracted to anyone at all. How had Mike noticed that? How much did he know? Had Nile told him what happened at church camp? Why would Nile do something like that?

Oblivious to his internal crisis, Rico said, “I didn’t even know Erwin had a type.”

The next hour passed without any more remarks about his preferences. The guest room was to hold at least six of Erwin’s cousins, which meant two air mattresses had to be brought in, blown up, and squeezed between the two beds that were already in there.

By now Erwin knew not to expect too much from his family’s New Year’s get-togethers. Every year was more or less the same: they’d eat, sit around a campfire and talk politics and sports, then one half of the family would get spectacularly drunk while the other half regrouped inside in disapproval. He sat on a log with Mike and Ian and partly listened to a discussion about the local high school’s football team.

When he tuned that out he realized, not entirely surprised, that Mike and Ian were in the middle of talking about him. Ian was confirming that Erwin indeed liked brunets.

“What started this?” Erwin asked. “I haven’t been here an hour and y’all are already tryin’ my patience. And yes, Mike, that’s a thing we say. Y’all. Stop laughin’.”

“I’m not,” Mike said, pulling himself together for about five seconds before snorting again. “We’re just messing with you. But you’re so defensive that it _is_ kind of telling.”

Erwin elbowed him off of the log. Ian took the hint and changed the topic of conversation to something different. By this point the first few of his relatives had brought out the beer and were starting to become fire hazards. After being tripped over by yet another drunken uncle Erwin left the fire pit, declining Ian and Mike’s offer to tag along.

The woods around his aunt’s house were dense and teeming with litter. At this time of year they were quiet save for the rustle of leaves in the wind and the crunch of branches and dirt under his boots. Erwin followed one of many paths that had been worn by Rico’s four-wheeler over the years until he reached the edge. From here the grass sloped sharply downward until it hit the edge of the lake.

It was about a twenty minute walk from the house to the lake. Erwin glanced behind him just to double-check that no one had followed him, then settled down on the edge of the slope and pulled out his cell phone. It rang four times before Levi answered with a brusque, “Yeah?”

Erwin could hear him typing, a string of different taps before a sequence of ones that sounded similar. Whatever Levi was typing so fast, he was deleting it just as quickly. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to bother him, but Erwin felt it was an issue that needed to be addressed as soon as possible.

“That stuff you gave me,” he began, pausing when the typing sounds stopped, “it’s . . . suboptimal.”

“It’s _what_?”

“It’s not the lube itself, it’s just . . . it takes more than one hand to be completely enjoyable. I was very frustrated by the time I decided to stop foolin' with it.”

There were two or three minutes of absolute silence as Levi processed his words. At least he wasn’t laughing, Erwin thought. Finally Levi said, “Well, that’s . . . I hadn’t taken that into account. Sorry.” He was silent for another moment or two. “Did you try lying on your stomach? ‘Cause if you do that then it’s easier to—”

“No,” Erwin said. “I think that’s somethin’ we’ll have to figure out in person.”

“Now’s not a good time,” Levi said, sounding agitated. “I’m _this close_ to finishing this fucking thing and it’s not working out. I’d go ahead and get drunk right now except I’m on a deadline and Petra would never forgive me.”

“I’m down in Georgia for the rest of the break anyway. My family has a get-together every year . . . I was fixin’ to go back and make sure no one’s fallen into the fire pit. I could stay another minute if you’d like.” When Levi didn’t say anything he added, “I’m in a mood.”

Levi did laugh then, low and raspy. “Are you? So you figured you’d ring me up for a bit of phone sex?”

“You never call me first, so I thought I should make sure you’re getting your money’s worth. I hate feelin' useless.”

“Oh, you meant—” Levi’s voice lost its sultry edge. “What the fuck kind of mood is that?”

“Self-loathin'. I want you to stroke my ego and make me feel important.”

“I have a _novel_ to finish and you want me to _stroke_ your—" There was a sharp whooshing sound that might have been Levi exhaling through his nose. "Fine. Okay. I can do this.”

Erwin set his phone to speaker and set it down in the grass. He looked out over the lake while Levi talked. He’d been mostly joking about wanting to have his ego stroked; perhaps he’d been too deadpan for Levi to notice. He liked Levi’s voice, though, so he let him carry on without interruption. The typing started up again, and after about an hour Levi stopped and said, sounding a little awed, that he’d finished his manuscript.

“Thank you,” Erwin said while he stood up and stretched the stiffness from his legs. The temperature had dropped during the hour he’d sat out here and he almost wished he hadn’t left the fire.

“Thank _you_ , baby,” Levi replied. Erwin’s phone slipped from his hand and if it hadn’t still been on speakerphone Erwin would have missed him saying, “I’m going to get so drunk that I won’t be able to think straight until February.”

Erwin retrieved his phone. “I’ll call you when I’m back in town.”

“Yeah, see you then.”

“Happy New Year.”

Erwin slid his phone back into his jacket pocket and set off down the trail, his pulse thudding. No one had ever called him ‘baby’ before.

-

The bars were always crowded and noisy on holidays, which was why Levi didn’t like venturing outside his apartment until after they were over. Finishing a book wasn’t something that happened every day (though in his case it happened quite a bit; he prided himself on being prolific), so he braved the traffic and made his way to Petra’s apartment, arriving with enough wine to kill a man twice his size and a fraction his tolerance.

Petra answered the door, looking only momentarily surprised. They’d known each other long enough that she no longer questioned him when he showed up on her doorstep at strange hours of the night laden with alcohol. She let him in and stated the obvious. “So you’ve finished it, then?”

“Yeah. It was like trying to take a huge, rock-like shit. I’m glad to be done with it. Where’s your girlfriend?”

“She went to go visit her parents. I stayed behind in the event that you finished ahead of schedule, which you usually do. To be honest I thought you’d be out hunting for a date.”

Levi shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on her coat rack. “I’ll do that tomorrow. I want to spend New Year’s Eve with someone I know will drink responsibly.”

She laughed and took the wine. “Your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Levi said. He threw himself onto Petra’s couch and flipped through the channels for something good to watch. “And it’s none of your business.”

She sat down beside him. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotten me all curious. At least tell me his name.”

“No.”

“Just the first letter.”

“E. As in _e_ ff off.”

“What he does for a living?”

Levi’s mouth twitched. “He fucks me.”

Petra fumbled the wine bottle and managed to catch it before it smashed all over the coffee table. She turned to stare at him. “You’re dating a _rent boy_?”

“We’re not dating,” he corrected irritably. “And before you give me that look, he’s the one who approached me first.”

Petra gave him that look anyway. It was an impressive combination of disapproval and exasperation. “Levi, if this guy really needs the money, then can’t you give it to him without—y’know. That’s just kind of a delicate situation for someone to be in.”

“He doesn’t want money he hasn’t earned. And I wouldn’t have sex with him if he wasn’t comfortable with it, Petra. You know I wouldn’t.” Levi turned to some kind of monster movie and raised the volume. Petra was voicing concerns he himself had had over the past couple of weeks, and they made him more uneasy than he’d been to begin with. “He knows what he’s doing. Mostly. I’m having to teach him everything, he doesn’t even know how fingering works yet—”

“You’re dating a rent boy who’s _never had sex before_?” Petra half-bellowed.

“He’s had it once, and it was pretty—I’m just going to stop before you pop a blood vessel.”

“I need a drink,” she muttered, popping out the cork and taking a huge gulp.

“If it makes you feel any better, we kind of had phone sex while I finishing it up tonight.”

Petra closed her eyes. “I have to _edit_ that with that image in my head. I can’t believe you write the kind of books that you do, Levi, I really can’t.”

Levi took the wine and tipped it toward the television, where some kind of monster was rampaging through New York. “Happy New Year, Petra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so swamped with schoolwork that I haven't been able to update as much as I'd like to. That's also why there's much less of Erwin's butt in this chapter than I wanted there to be >:T it's a-coming though...eventually......


End file.
